"sunnyside" poems
I wanna marry a chav
that looks just like
Britney Spears,
now, not ten years ago---
Barefoot & pregnant in yoga pants,
Barefoot mother slipping
into black stockings---
She idolizes her rivals,
Wants to be her own evil-twin---
I wanna marry the **** out of her
& watch her belly grow
in the sundaddy-o---
I want to take her ***
To the ****** Islands---
And watch her beached,
She is the opposite of who she is---
Completely manic up & running
She who stays within reach
Of images drowned
Between an old lady’s thighs---
Mother slips on black pantyhose,
Adjusting the waist over her *******
On Thursdays, sunnyside
every other day
---
Mother 8 months preggers in yoga pants
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 9:58 PM UTC
Under harsh street lights
And a rusted skeletal overpass
We walked in the syrupy
Silence of a Sunnyside Saturday
Night
A man asked me in accented
English
"Want that burrito spicy?"
"Yes"
His eyebrows go up
"Spicy?"
"Yes, ******* spicy!"
He smiles to himself
Reaches back into the food truck
And pours sauces and
Liquids of varying color
And viscosity into the
Tortilla
Wraps it up for me
Gives me my change
And waves me off with a smile
When we get back to the apartment
She is mad
Because I choose to make love to the
Burrito instead of her
I can't help it
Drunk eating is one of the
Forbidden joys of life
She slams the door and
Shuffles around yelling
By the time I'm done the burrito
She is telling me to sleep on the couch
Which is fine because I can't
Feel my mouth anyway
The burrito is so **** spicy
I tell her this and that her
Kisses would be wasted
If she wants to waste her time
With me, I want to feel it
We sleep together for
The night
Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 6:15 PM UTC
I sit at the high island table beside the ferns & that one
Cacti you named Carlos
Adoring the morning
Sunlight
In your eyes-
I’m lost in the way you cook eggs
Sunnyside but you almost always mess up
Somewhere between the process of flipping it & {looking}
{Like a lovelier Rosie R.}
Later deciding it was
Scrambled you were making all along
Perhaps
I’m in love with way you can’t whistle
But attempt to anyways
Nonchalantly-
As if nothing happened-
As if my heart weren’t those-
Eggs
Dec 12, 2014
Dec 12, 2014 at 1:42 AM UTC
...
I read the news today, oh my
Koo, koo, kachoo
The fox in is charge of the hen house
Gates are secure but the creature is inside
Feathers fly in helter skelter patterns
“You’ve got to crack a few eggs” is heard
as those who hear, scramble
seeking the sunnyside
A dozen or so duck the falling shells,
raining down from straw filled verses,
bland but obviously first in the pecking order,
hoping it all would be over…easy
While down on Broadway a church mouse sings off key
"Grabbed my coat and grabbed my hat,
ate the cheese in seconds flat,"
to a blindfolded audience
waiting to applaud till the curtain goes down,
so not to be seen greeting late arrivals
with luggage and tickets
hoping the next show is not sold out
for this standing room only presentation
Fortunately three, maybe four seats still remain unoccupied
as stale popcorn and sticky floors beckon them to
crushed velvet seating with
back pocket indentations left behind
The lights go down and the band strikes up
a rousing intro to what should be a good show,
at least that’s what the reviews said,
5 stars, Brilliantly directed, The best choice
for your daily intake of culture…
When a tuxedo with a smile
makes its way to center stage
and begins reading backwards,
“I buried Paul”
Boos rang out from the crowd.
“We came here for poetry!” was shouted in unison
But it just kept on, “Number 9, number 9, number 9”
The audience ran for the exit doors (stage left)
and as they hit the streets looking for something better,
“Turn me on dead man” echoed after them
Meanwhile, back at the chicken coop…
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
I still stretch like a cat in the morning
Holding the breath of my last dream
inhaling the thoughts of my next one
You never meet me there.
I stumble to the kicthen
Wash my hands
& fry my eggs sunnyside up
You never meet me there.
I place my favortie coffee mug upon the counter
Fill it with rich, smooth, bold, black coffee
let the creamer sweeten it as I open the blinds
You never meet me there.
Your absence is a noisy silence
When my heart yearns for you
It beats like an Orchestra
I don't know where you've gone
I do know my Mothers patience
Beyond a virtue
Is more like Celeste
Either she believes she'll see you again
Or you've never left
I cry sometimes
More often then I should
it doesn't get any easier
You never meet me there.
I reminisce sometimes
Not as often as I should
there's a peace in my past
I cannot leave you there.
You are my Father
You did your job
Above average is your middle name
Greatly was your first
& the last you left behind for us, Love
Greatly Above Average Love
You set a standard
You are my latest
Greatest
Inspiration
A million Thank You's I never gave
A billion hugs I can no longer give
When I make it to the deepest corners of my heart
I am confident
You will meet me there! <3
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
40 hours in
a warm mu agonist blanket
reminding you
the sunnyside sea serene
.. ...that everything everyone
will be ok
like the last time it felt right
to let someone
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 1:31 PM UTC
Spit it out like it must be said.
Its on the the tip of my tongue.
This **** is cousin to death,
She's like a father to me.
Big gold cross for my Momma
to show Pops we livin prosperously.
He coughs just like me,
I'm chiefin more than him now.
Candles burn at every turn until
the passion dims out.
Awaiting faith i know will never come to light.
I'll live like this until I'm six feet under Sunnyside.
Raised in the Beach,
You know i slave away in Compton.
One more day to pay the cover charge of living without options.
Pro Club on my black t.
Three lumps in my black tea.
Borderline poor royalty,
Unknown to you,
And it means more to me,
Anyway.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
Reality is a blur, a foggy consistant blur.
Everyday is the same melancholic routine.
10 on the dot.
One sunnyside up egg with a toasted sourdough slice.
Citrus tea with honey and an amusing podcast to prepare.
Slap on foundation and eyeliner, to look somewhat "happy" for a straining workday to come.
Thank god for the coming 4 hours there, my mind is of spotless.
Not a thought of you comes inching in my deserted cold mind in those 4 hours.
As soon as I punch out and put away the fake smiles of the workday, you pop right up.
This in general is not bad in a way that I loathe you, the memory of you,
But bad in a way that I miss you.
Enormously.
The old routine was much more methodically medicore but it was pure ******* beyond happiness.
Up at 9, waffles with milk, with tv in the background.
As I can not fathom the desire to be at work already.
Walking in, I longed to see your deep icy blues that just melted me instantly as soon as I saw them,
Into a puddle, there I go.
Their target are aimed towards my ungraceful demeanor, it still shocks me through out my whole body.
Tingling, Inviting and Warm.
Feelings I felt everytime you nearby, I instantly knew it was you.
Present day.
As I drive towards what seems to be another morrow towards the vapid and grave, I look for you.
I felt those blues that day of a party.
I felt them as I walked away from a group conversation.
I felt them as I mourned the loss of someone.
I felt those blues that first night.
The night we met.
Vanilla ice cream, in the cold air and a life changing experince we both intuned.
Instinctively, I trust its profoundly there to you too.
Even now and till your departing day.
I felt those blue eyes.
As much sorrow and grief it brings me always, and probably will be till my final and sweet death,
I dream back to the days I would walk in, and melt in my puddle, as I felt and longed for those icy blues.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 4:47 AM UTC
you bring me down
i could of been a bald eagle who
spread his wings wide over the globe
laid down his wings and took the earth
grasp it in my slick talons and swing it
then let it go and watch it fly like an egg
but you brought me down and now
im a cracked egg spilled on a
cracked sidewalk scattered by love
picked at walked on chewed up beat down burnt up by the unjust sun cooked sunnyside up with my yolk filling in the cracks becoming the ground that you walk on.
exactly where i belong
its too late for me im already insane
already in love with being alone
yet you still sit there on a cracked sidewalk remoreless with fork and knife slowly dissecting my love for myself eating it up and ******** it back out just to take something beautiful and make it ugly its in our nature
it is who we are we cannot run from it
only embrace it and learn to love the ****
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
when you find yourself
standing,
on the corner
of somewhere and desloate
holding a sheaf of sunbeams
whilst humming hopeful
show tunes
with a small nonedescript
black dog(you call bozo)
on a leash, lying belly up,
submisssive, at your side
that is when you have found
where recovery resides.
and when you know
way down in the abyss
inside
that you are looking at
a new way of being,
not necessarily
rose-tinted seeing.
and in that knowledge
you find the honesty
to decry...
that while, you be,
both living and visiting,
on the sunnyside.
that tho, somedays are fine,
some saltmine hard
and some too hard
to define....
despite all that
too-ing and fro-ing
all those tendril thoughts
and clouded over dark days
all the whispering
and bargaining fey things
your internal filmaker brings
to bear,
on the walls of your sanity
you will come through
with sunbeams glowing...
that is when you know...
....recovery
is the key to the lock
on a house...
in a suburb....
that does not have streets
named....
somewhere and desolate....
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
On a train bound for Kentucky Bourbon
Sat a preacher, a ****** and a business man
The ****** on his way to see the sand
The preacher prepares for his next sermon
The young ****** approached the man in the suit
He said this may sound crazy, but you look just like my dad
The man asked him to take a seat and talk about his roots
Young ****** told his story, he wound up in many places he believed were good, but ended up bad
As the night progressed the two shard a coherent bond
While in the back the preacher continued praying
Hours later the ****** woke up to the business man, who was unable to respond
They soon arrived to the town and it began to pour down raining
The preacher walked past the business man and the ****** said "father aren't you going to bless this man"
The preacher took a step back as if the ****** had lost his mind
The ****** still confused as to why the preacher wanted to leave the man behind
The preacher said "Son, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but no one else was in the van"
The ****** saw the sign Sunnyside Rehabilitation Center and he knew the preacher was never a preacher, and the business man was never in the van
Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 9:38 PM UTC
*Hearts in camouflage , her lover in disguise as a birch at the lakeside , as a piedmont blue morning vision picturing two monogamous songbirds of a loving feather , holding on forever , in warm Springtide weather
At sunnyside , crossing fields of April lavender and May green* ...
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 2:19 PM UTC